And The Leaves Came Tumbling Down

Driving down the road near my home the other day, I heard someone in the car remark,
"look at how sad the trees look without their leaves." I was looking at the same view, but what I saw was something completely different. What I saw was a living thing that had let go of the dead things, the things that it no longer needed, and had settled in to focus on sustaining itself through the winter by pulling up from its roots what it needed to come back next spring reborn and renewed.

I often wonder if society looks at older people the way my friend looked at that tree. I suspect that many do. They see skin that has taken on wrinkles or grey hairs replacing the once colorful ones. They see lives that to them represent someone who is no longer useful or that no longer has anything to contribute .More often than not they look right past the person as if they were invisible.  If they only knew how wrong they were.

Like the trees, I like to think that as we move into our "Third Age" (a term I prefer to aging or senior), we shed what we no longer need or what is no longer important to us and dig down deep to find our nourishment and sustenance from those places within us, our spiritual centers and personal experiences, that flow up from our roots to blossom new and wonderful things in our lives. What are the things that sustain us through all of the storms of our lives? What experiences have shown us what to let go of and what is worth keeping?

For me it has meant letting go of people and places that robbed me of my energy, and beliefs that kept me from growing and blooming. Once they were gone, there was plenty of space available in my life for new ideas, new experiences and new people who let in the light of infinite possibilities. Sure, sometimes it was hard to let certain folks and beliefs go especially if they had been with me for a very long time. It was much like when I picked the last few veggies on the slowly dying plants in the garden and left the rest for the critters and to go back into the earth from whence it came. After the time for winter's sleep has come and gone, new and healthier plants will take their place and nourish me once more.

This morning I woke up to more trees that had shed their leaves after a very windy rain storm last night. I was sorry to see all those beautiful leaves go, but I thanked them for the gift of color they had given me and wished them a healthy, well earned sleep until next year when they came back brand new and ready to take on the world.

And so it is.

Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop

I'm sure we can all think back and remember those words of wisdom that our mothers shared with us on a regular basis. I've found that many of them are universal, like "Money doesn't grow on trees," or, "A watched pot never boils," or my personal favorite, "Don't stand there with the refrigerator door open - penguins are forming a line."  There was one that my mother used, however, that always bothered me and, much to my surprise, the lesson that came with it has unknowingly stuck with me up to this day until recently.

Whenever something wonderful happened my mom would always caution us not to get too excited. She believed that a good thing was always followed by a bad thing that took the happiness out of the good thing. She said she was always, "waiting for the other shoe to drop." In essence, she was afraid to be happy because something always happened to take her happiness away. It wasn't until I was much older and came to know the story of her past and her upbringing that I understood why she felt that way. Unfortunately, by that time the belief behind that saying was deeply implanted in my psyche. Whenever someone wonderful happened, or I achieved a goal or dream, inwardly I would always be afraid to be happy because I was sure the happiness wouldn't last. It was as if happiness was for other people. I was one of the ones that was lucky to just get by .

The other day I was watching an episode of Oprah's Super Soul Sunday with Elizabeth Gilbert, author of the  best seller Eat, Pray, Love. When Liz started talking about folks who were afraid to be happy, my inner radar beeped. It wasn't until that moment that I realized I was one of those people. Here I was sitting in my new place, surrounded by nature at her best and the peace and quiet I had craved, and I was complaining because I had a case of writer's block. I kept telling myself, "see, you complained for years that you wanted to move back home so you could write full time and now that you're here, you're still not happy." It hadn't occurred to me that I was in fact afraid to be happy. Now that I was finally "home," I was waiting for something bad to happen ... waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wow, what an eye opener.

I know that I will not be able to rid myself of this belief over night. After all, it has been  hiding in the back of my mind for 65 years. The good news is that now that I have found where it was hiding and have exposed it for the goblin that it is, I can work on embracing it and then letting it go. It won't be easy. It takes something called faith, in myself and in The Universe, but as they say in AA, admitting you have a problem is half the battle. Giving this goblin a name will enable me to finally stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. Note to self: run through life barefoot like a child who still believes in happily ever after. Then you won't have any shoes to drop!

And so it is.

A Story About Tranformers and Transformation

This is my "almost 5 years old but still 4 for a few more days" (his own words) grandson Stanley Jr., affectionately known as Bubba.  Bubba's favorite things are robots, specifically Transformers. For anyone who has not been around children for a while, Transformers are Superhero robots who can transform themselves into some pretty nifty super vehicles like trucks, planes, helicopters and such. The leader of the good-guy Transformers , as opposed to the bad guy Transformers,  is called Optimus Prime. Good old Optimus can change himself into a huge, shiny, silver tanker truck. This is the gold standard of Transformers. So imagine my grandson's amazement when we were pulling out of the parking lot of the supermarket in my new home town when a big, shiny, silver tanker truck came zooming by.

Now his mother and I knew that this was just an ordinary milk tanker on its way to pick up milk from the local dairy farms. However, from the backseat came a loud gasp, followed by, "Grandma, look! It's Optimus Prime!" Not missing a beat, I replied, "Yep, it sure is." Bubba strained against his seat belt to watch his hero make a turn and head up the road to my place. "He's going up your road! Quick, follow him!" Like a good mother (and because we were headed that way anyway), my daughter swung out of the lot and took up the pursuit. Since my place is just before the crest of a hill, and our neighbors are dairy farmers who are currently building a huge, new dairy barn, I figured that was our hero's destination. Sure enough, as soon as it crested the hill, it disappeared into the farm's driveway to make a pickup. My grandson was beside himself. "Is that where he lives?" he asked. "You bet," I answered. "That's why they're building that big new barn. But it's a secret because he doesn't want the bad guys to know where it is." (This is called covering my butt in case he took it upon himself to walk up the hill for a visit). When we got out of the car, he just looked up the hill at the barn and then at me in awe. "Wow! Optimus Prime is my grandma's neighbor!" My own grandma status had just risen to the top of the meter.

Wouldn't it be nice if we could all transform ourselves into a sleek, shiny superhero so we could save the world and have that kind of effect on someone's life, especially if it's someone we love? Here's a little secret: the most powerful transformation we can make is to become the best version of who we really are and watch how it transforms those around us. Think back in your own lives to that one person, be it a parent, teacher, or friend, who lived a truly authentic life and what kind of effect that had on you.  We often forget that everything we do causes a ripple that spreads out and touches everyone around us just like a pebble tossed in a pool of water. When I am out in the garden tending to my plants, or working on a piece of writing, everyone around me sees a happy, contented, whole person. That is the very best version of myself that I could possibly share with those I love ... even if I do live next door to a superhero.

So take a few moments and think about how you can be a superhero to those around you by being the best version of you that you can be, and imagine what kinds of ripples you can send out. Somebody some day is going to thank you for it. Let Optimus Prime try and top that!

And so it is.

Sacred Spaces

Anyone who has ever moved to a new home will tell you that the first priorities are to get the kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms set up first. As long as you can eat, bathe and sleep, you can pretty much take your time unpacking the rest of your belongings. I would add another space to that list of priorities: your sacred space.

In the midst of all the turmoil and confusion while trying to find the coffee pot (definitely a priority), your toothbrush and your pillow, having a place where you can close yourself off from it all even for just a few minutes is essential in maintaining your sanity and recharging your inner battery for the long haul ahead ... especially if you find, like me, that even after all of the clutter clearing and purging you did before you moved, you still have way too much stuff and nowhere to put it!

I was lucky on my first day in my new digs. Even though my furniture wasn't coming until the next day, it was warm and sunny out and I was able to take advantage of this lovely spot outside whenever I felt as if I could not move one more muscle or make one more decision about where something should go. I just sat, let the swing and the breeze do its thing, and let Mother Nature nurture me for a while. I am so glad that I decided to do that. It made all of the difference between the experience being an exhausting and frustrating one, to being one filled with happiness and fulfillment. As long as I had my sacred space, all was well and everything else was just details.

You don't have to move to a new home to find your sacred space. Any space that you can make your own where you can sit, meditate, pray or just commune with nature is perfect. A place with a window is preferable for those days when it is too cold to go outside and sit but you still want to be able to feel the world outside. Mine looks out at trees and sky, and feels as cozy as a baby blanket or a fuzzy teddy.

Where is your sacred space? If you don't have one, make one. It will be the best move your ever made.

And so it is.

The Long And Winding Road

The boxes are packed. The walls are bare, only the shadows of pictures and paintings remain. Living off of microwave food and fresh fruit for three more days. October 1 begins a new month and a new chapter in my life. My long and winding road is bringing me back to where a new me was planted and blossomed.

Here at the age of 65 I am continually amazed when I look back at the journey I have been on and how I somehow arrived at my authentic self. When I think about some of the pivotal moments of my life, like two divorces, a college degree at 36 (with three kids a home and a job at the same time), two major out-of-state moves, an accident and a chance encounter with a teddy bear that led me to my true home, I stand in awe of the strength of the human spirit and the love of the Creator for its creations. If anyone had told me years ago that I had the power to create the life I wanted regardless of outside events, I would have said they were crazy... and yet, on some level, I always knew that there was something more and my curiosity refused to let go of that idea. An idea is a powerful thing. If you give it full rein, it can take you anywhere.

Is there some sadness connected with leaving where I am now? Sure there is. Regardless of the fact that from the moment I moved here I was already trying to plan my escape, my long and winding road had to make a stop here so I could learn what I had to learn and for that I am grateful. I will miss my little nature spot outside of my window. I will miss squirrels coming up and scratching on the window when they see me at the computer. I will miss the sparrows and finches that came to the feeder, the antics of Freddy the Blue Jay and the devotion of Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal for each other. As I take down the feeders and watch them as they search for what is no longer there, I tell them that there is a new feeder and a new home for them if they would only take that leap and look for it.

Never lose hope that your long and winding road will end up in a dead end, or go on aimlessly forever. It will take you where you need to go, teach you what you need to learn, and then it will take you home.

And so it it.

P.S. I will be offline for a while until my internet connection is hooked up. I will respond to your sweet comments as soon as I can!

All Apples Are Not Created Equal

One of the perks of living in upstate New York comes around this time of the year. As soon as the first nip is in the air and the first leaves start to turn, you can be sure that it's apple harvest time. Local orchards open their gates to let folks pick there own and even post on their web sites which variety of apples are currently ready to pick. Every village and town holds their yearly apple festivals and you can be sure that all of your favorite apple desserts will be ready to sample like apple pie, apple crumb, apple turnovers and muffins and, of course, apple cider freshly made. Every  kind of apple you can think of is also available from the old standbys like Granny Smith, Red Delicious and  Gala, to McIntosh and Honey Crisp. Living just a few miles from the home of Cortland apples makes me feel kind of proud to be a part of it all.

Now folks are pretty particular in these parts concerning which apple is best for which kind of dessert. Some say the Granny Smiths are the best apples for making pie, while others would choose Cortland apples. Does a Gala make a better baked apple than a McIntosh? And which one is best for just plain eating (the vote is still out on that one but I prefer a good old Red Delicious myself). Whatever your needs are, there is an apple to fill the bill.

This reminds me of the diversity of humankind on the planet. Everyone has a purpose, a talent, something that they are better at than others. Some folks make really great doctors while others were born to write the Great American Novel or find a cure for cancer. Maybe you enjoy having your head in the stars while your neighbor would rather have his head hovering over a microscope. Whatever your talent or passion, there is a reason that you are here and a gift that only you can share. If someone asked me to solve a complex math problem or write an equation, I would be completely and totally lost. But if you asked me to write a story or crochet a baby blanket, I'd be on it like a flash. Not all apples are created equal and neither are people.  Celebrate your uniqueness and share your talents with the world.

As for me, I know one thing I am very, very good at ... eating apple pie! So if you'll excuse me, I hear a slice that is calling to me ....

And so it is.

Some Dreams Just Take A Little Longer

I began this series on clutter clearing with two thoughts in mind. One was that I wanted to let go of those things that no longer served me and that were keeping me from moving forward. I intended this on both a material and a spiritual level. The other was that all of my favorite teachers advised when you clear your home of unwanted things and clutter, you make room for new and wonderful things in your life. My intention here was to manifest a new home. Ah, but here is the most important point: I wasn't just trying to manifest a new home anywhere. My intention was to manifest a home in a very special, very particular place.

Those of you who have followed by blogs from the beginning know that a little more than 20 years ago I packed up my old '76 Chevy with only necessities and my favorite things and headed out to a new life in a little village in upstate New York. I took up gardening for the first time and learned to grow myself along with the flowers, herbs and vegetables. For seven very happy years I lived in the kind of peace and sense of community that small towns are famous for. Alas, the economy knew nothing about peace, community or gardening. It only knew that the jobs in my area were few and far between, and businesses were either closing or laying off in large numbers. I had to go out farther and farther to find work, and when you live in what is referred to as "the Syracuse Show Belt," driving 54 miles round trip in the winter for work can make for a long and stressful week. So I reluctantly and tearfully left my happy home behind and moved closer to my job. However, I never, never gave up hope that I would go home some day to stay. To cement that intention in place, I made some prayer ties in the Native American tradition and buried them along the river bank under a tree that my granddaughter used to call Grandma Willow after the the grandmother tree in the Disney version of Pocahontas. The prayer ties all said that I would some day come home to stay. Then I filled two small jars with river water and stones that I have kept on my mini alter at home for the last 15 years.

A few weeks after I began my clutter clearing, I found some photos from back home and put them in small frames that I sat on my desk so that I would see them every morning. Two weeks ago I received a phone call from the lovely folks who were my landlords when I lived in my little piece of heaven. They had also left the area for a few years as one of them had been transferred for work to Buffalo. He had retired and they returned home where they purchased a new house. When I saw them in April at the Annual Maple Festival, they asked me when I was coming home. I told them, "you find me the perfect place, and I'll retire and start packing." Two weeks ago they called. Their tenet was moving out to take care of her aged father ... the place was mine if I wanted it. I hung up the phone and cried, great big tears of joy. I am finally going home. In three weeks I will be looking out of my window at valleys filled with Mother Nature's patchwork quilt of fields and trees, barns and silos, and the blessed silence that is only interrupted by passing geese and visiting birds. Home.

Some dreams just take a little longer to come true. Maybe they might have come true sooner if I had trusted my intuition and hadn't let fear and uncertainty cloud my judgement. Or, maybe I just wasn't ready until now. No matter. I learned that when I keep my eyes on my goal, set my intention and trust that Creator has bigger and better plans for me than any I could conceive of myself, dreams really do come true. So what can you dream up? Think big. You deserve it!

And so it is.